


Dreamweaving

by cyberkogane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Keith is the one who finds the blue lion, M/M, Soulmates, and start to fall in love, kinda short but i might make a part 2!, takes place before Keith and the others leave earth, that's how they meet, they literally see each other in Keith's dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberkogane/pseuds/cyberkogane
Summary: "Lance licks his lips and glances down to Keith's, making a point of it.And though Keith takes longer to understand most social innuendos,thatstrikes him clear as day.He isn't sure what comes over him then. There's no warning before he manages to crowd Lance, feeling their breaths mingle with shaky need; a want so fierce it sends a blooming of supernova's into their blood. Lance sinks into the soft grass beneath him, his hair falling away from his face with eyes wide and blue and electric. Fingers reach hesitantly to rest on Keith's waist, urging him closer with small, insistent tugs. And Keith, for all of his youthful proclamations that things like this didn't matter, feels his own heart beating wild with wings."( Keith meets a boy in his dreams and through the expanse of the cosmos, they find sanctuary. )





	Dreamweaving

**Author's Note:**

> This has been stuck in my head for days so I finally decided to write it out. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

* * *

 

 

 _When he shall die,_  
_Take him and cut him out in little stars,_  
_And he will make the face of heaven so fine_  
_That all the world will be in love with night._  
  
_-William Shakespeare_

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Are you real?" The boy asks, blue eyes opening in the dusk of a flower-kissed field, "Or have I made you up?"

Wind blows in whistle whispers, casting cool drifts to Keith's face. He blinks and does so again and again, wondering if the boy in the grass will disappear.

He doesn't.

"Where are we?" Keith asks and his voice echoes, drifting to a distant range of blue hazed mountains. Something transcendent rustles the foliage and when he looks down he sees that his feet are bare. That they are speckled by dirt and warmed by the slow setting sun, splays of crimson and gold catching aflame on the rolling hills around him.

"This is my home." The boy answers, staring up at Keith. "Or what it once was."

The words strike Keith as odd and he lowers himself to sit and watches as the boy does the same, moving with a natural, almost feline type of grace. His brown hair brushes against his cheek, two strange little shapes pressed beneath each eye like upturned crescent moons.

"Who are you?" The boy continues, "Where did you come from?"

"Keith. I'm not...too sure how I got here."

"Keith." The boy says it slowly, a rolling accent sitting heavy on his tongue, "I'm Lance. It's been a very long time since I've had to introduce myself."

Keith picks at the grass, brows coming together at the sight of pain washing over the young man's face. His brown skin glistens but it doesn't seem to be from sweat; it's much too fine. It shimmers like mist on the skin, coming and going when he turns his head or pushes a few strands of hair behind strangely pointed ears.

"I'm dreaming, right?" Keith asks, glancing around at the expanse of the fields again. "This is all a dream."

The boy tilts his head and leans forward, something playful and curious forming in his eye, "Is it?"

Keith wakes before more can be said.

His gasp is loud in the silence, disrupting the drafty dark of an empty cabin. It is a home lost to time, warped by endless hours spent searching for what has been lost. Cobwebs take place of picture frames, the walls are left to the trailing of red strings and wrinkled papers full of clues. All a testament to Keith's endless desperation. He knows the universe is unfair, that it swallows and devours whatever it wishes. He knows that it's almost useless for him to keep on like this; that he may one fade away because of it.

What Keith doesn't know, however, is that it is not even close to the end.

It is just the beginning.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They say that the darkness between the stars is a void, a place known as interstellar. For Keith, it is a starting point for him to stare at endlessly, wondering if each passing burst of light is Shiro returning to him. He lays on the ground and stretches his limbs, aching from a day spent doing yard work for older people near the canyons. The pay is shit but it keeps food in his belly so he can't really complain. He slides his eyes from the belt of Orion to Eridanus: the flowing river. Out here, where the wind is no longer kept away by man-made walls, it is easy for him to drift seamlessly. His eyes grow heavy as the stars stretch out in a blanket above, twinkling from ancient supernova's and new births.

When he wakes, he is no longer on Earth.

It had been a few nights since the first time he saw Lance and Keith thought it had been a fluke. A way for his mind to ease the burden of being lonely, to balm the fire always dragging between his ribs.

"I didn't think you would come back." Lance says, the echo of his voice fading the longer Keith stands there, eyes wide in disbelief.

The boy sounds hopeful, relieved and suddenly put at ease. There's a spark in his eye that hadn't had the chance to grow last time, a light that shines against celestial blue and the dark frame of his lashes.

"I thought you were a dream." Keith admits.

Lance smiles for the first time and Keith's breath is snatched from his lungs, stolen away by a dimple on his left cheek.

"I'm very real." Lance says.

They stare at each other before Lance motions for Keith to sit down, patting his hand in the grass beside him. The dark green blades sway with the breeze and Lance takes a deep breath, eyes falling shut in languid motion.

"I smell the rain." He lets the breath back out, "If it falls, I should be able to feel it too."

"Why wouldn't you?"

Lance opens his eyes and pulls his knees to his chest, making Keith notice for the first time that he's dressed like someone from another time. Boots come up to mid-calf, holding bunched white trousers that are dirty and grass-stained at the knees. Keith trails his eyes up the boy's shirt, appreciating the way it sits in elegant indigo against Lance's brown skin. And behind him, hanging from his his shoulders, is something close to a cape though definitely more refined.

He looks like some kind of prince.

"I didn't think I would be able to feel it the first time it happened." Lance finally answers, voice quiet, "For a long time, the skies were clear, giving no hint that the weather would change at all."

Thunder rolls, pretty clouds gathering near the peaks of the mountains. Keith furrows his brows and leans forward just a bit, noticing for the first time the shapes in the distance. Down the valley, away from their spot on the highest hills, are buildings. That much Keith can tell, simply because they rise and fall like any other city. But they seem wobbly, as if he could blink and they'd disappear completely.

"You said this was your home." Keith looks back to Lance, watching the way his eyes roam from cloud to cloud, "How can I possibly be here, then?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe you aren't-"

"But I am." He sniffs at the air, smelling the sweet flora and salt of the nearby ocean, "I know I am."

"Yes." Lance smirks and lays his cheek on his folded arms, bringing all of his attention back to Keith. "I guess that's true, if your stubbornness has anything to say about it." When Keith doesn't reply, when the flush on his face deepens to the red of a rose, Lance continues, "It's lonely, being by myself all the time. I never liked it. Yet, it feels like it's been this way for eons now."

"Yeah." Keith nods, "I know what you mean."

Lance gives him a somber look, one that makes Keith want to pluck all the flowers in the field and risk placing them at his feet; giving way to his deeply vaulted, hidden romantic ideations. But then Lance leans over and lays his hand in the grass, a few inches away from Keith's own, bringing with him a summertime warmth. Keith soaks it in and leans his head back, watching as slightly uncanny birds fly across the sky.

For the rest of Keith's time there, they say nothing else.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Several weeks later, it rains. Keith wakes to the drops falling from the sky one after another, creating a sheet of white as far as the eye can see. He stands atop a hill and searches for Lance, panic seizing his lungs at the thought that this time the boy won't be there.

But then he spots him, hands held upward against the downpour. His head is tilted to the sky, cape missing from his shoulders even though the air is colder than it's ever been. Keith studies the way he stands, the way his long legs look against the damp clothes sticking to his skin. He looks and he studies and he feels no shame, simply because he's sure Lance can't see him doing it.

An almost wintry wind whips around them and though Keith fears something is wrong with Lance, he can't tell from this distance. Taking to the slope of land, Keith feels the smooth stones on the beach rub against the soles of his feet. Water sloshes on the shore, frothy and slightly red, the color looking otherworldly against the gray misty air.

When he reaches Lance, the boy smiles and grabs Keith's hand, urging him to get closer. Thunder booms across the sky yet almost instantly, the moment Keith's fingers wrap around Lance's own, the air begins to warm. Pink and purple flowers open like breathing things and Lance leads him back up the hill. They wander through the grass but neither care about the dirt that has turned to mud on their feet. Water soaks their hair and their skin, sits prettily on Lance's lashes and slides in translucent shimmers down his neck.

Keith is struck, almost violently, at the sight. He pulls his hand away and wipes at his eyes, trying to get rid of the slight sting.

"Are you alright?" Lance asks, smile falling each moment Keith remains silent.

There had been many occasions that Keith had wanted to kiss a boy. In the dark, during one of his excursions to the theater to see a movie he didn't really care about. During detention, when the most interesting thing to do was stare at the back of the boy's head and remember that he'd smiled at Keith three weeks ago to the date. Even in the Garrison, on a day that Shiro insisted he help show the proper way to chart a star-map, though Keith's eyes kept sliding to a guy with huge round glasses the entire time.

Now, Keith stares at Lance and the longing that had been absent for months and months comes back with force. Washing over him, threatening to sink him- he wants nothing more than to do the one thing he knows he can't. They'd just met and he wasn't keen to follow in dear ole' Romeo Montague's footsteps.

He doesn't want whatever this is to end in some sort of tragedy.

Unlike the rest of his life, he longs desperately for this to be a place of stability. Real or not, he needs both of them to keep finding each other the moment he shuts his eyes.

"Sorry, I-" He gulps against the rain. "I just don't, or well, I mean-"

Lance raises a sharp, thin brow, "I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not."

"Then what is it?"

Wincing, the words fall from Keith's mouth before he can stop them. He'd always been prone to self-destruction, to ending any chance of friendship before his fears of abandonment could come true.

"Are you not confused? Curious as to why we're here at all?" He glances at Lance's ears, "Why we look so different?"

"Of course I am." Lance says, "But I don't know how long this will last and I don't care to think about it, let alone test fate. Each time you leave, I wonder if it'll be the last I see of you."

The way his voice cracks makes Keith's nerves come alive. He has never felt wanted, save for the muddled memories of his father before the fire. He has never felt friendship, other than that of Shiro, who wanted him to lead a better life.

Now, he wants to grasp whatever this is and never let it go.

"I don't want to leave."

Lance holds out his hand, a single golden ring sitting snug on his middle finger, "Then come with me."

Hesitating only a moment more, Keith strides forward and finds his hand again. Their fingers lace, warm against the slight chill still lingering in the air. Thunder travels loudly across the sky and they jump, laughter rising in bubbles to spill free from their throats.

Lance turns and tugs Keith forward until they're both running, feeling like the only two people in what seems to be the entire world. The fields stretch endlessly and they keep going until they think they can reach the horizon; faces flushed and feeling so light, both swear they could fly.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Keith looks for answers. He types any word he can into search engines, asking questions that sound absolutely ridiculous to anyone but him.

_Meeting a stranger in my sleep?_

_Why can I feel things in my dreams?_

_Pointy ears and moon birthmarks-_

With a huff, Keith hits the backspace on the library computer and pushes a hand through his hair. No matter how much he tries, he can find no logical explanation for the things that are happening to him. The library contains the normal hush of pages being turned and the clicking of keys, a door creaking open before falling shut. It makes his eyes feel heavy but he knows he can't sleep here. He can't risk waking with a gasp and the clutching of his hand to his chest, wide-eyed at the feeling of something _tugging_ at his heart.

Clearing his search history, Keith logs out and brings the time stamp to the front desk, smiling politely at the older woman who tries to make light conversation.

He walks to his hover-bike and climbs on, pushing the helmet on his head moments before glancing at the sky, falling into the same routine he's had for almost an entire year. If Shiro were to come back, he wonders if he'd feel it. If it'd be as obvious as the pressure on his chest each time he wakes from his time with Lance.

Keith wonders, not for the first time, if he's losing his mind.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"I've told you before, Earth isn't that great." Keith shrugs and watches the way Lance runs a hand through the water from their position on the beach, fingers roaming in deft, elegant motion. "There's war and violence and sadness, all taking place each second. It never stops."

Lance looks up at him, mouth turned down in a frown, "But it's your home."

"Yeah. Unfortunately."

The look that passes over Lance's face is one full of contradictions. Full of things Keith wishes he could understand but can't find the capacity to.

"Don't say that." Lance murmurs, fingers rising from the water to flick at Keith's face, "You don't mean it."

"Yes I do."

"No, you don't-"

 _"You don't know what it's like."_ Keith snaps, that destructive fire in his gut flaring to an inferno. "The people on Earth hate each other. The planet is dying because we don't care enough to save it and in the end, everyone just, _leaves_. One moment they're there, making you sandwiches before your first day of school or helping you move into a dorm at a stupid flight academy and then they're _gone_. And Earth is so full of injustice and people who don't care if children starve on the streets-"

Keith cuts off, grinding his teeth to keep himself from rambling further. He wears his trauma and his anger on his sleeve with a temper that cuts before it burns, has always portrayed it through bruised knuckles and bloody lips.

Lance shifts closer, reaching a hand to touch Keith's knee, "There are good things too. You just have to find them. To hold them close-"

"How would you know?" Keith hisses, knowing he's being unreasonable but finding himself unable to stop. He pushes Lance's hand away, "You've never been there. It seems you've never been anywhere but _here_. In this _perfect_ place!"

Lance's breath hitches but not in the way Keith tends to imagine it would. His face falls and morphs and then he is standing, hands and shoulders shaking, blue eyes transmuting to an untouchable crystalline.

"There had been a time that I thought the same as you." His voice is a whip, surprisingly strong against the anger in his voice, "And I regret it. Every day, I regret it."

Keith gets to his feet and feels absolutely horrified, unsure of where his accusations came from but wanting nothing more than to take them back. All things twisted and cruel rage within him before he hears the break, knowing he's gone too far but as always remaining utterly clueless on how to fix it.

"Lance, I'm-"

"Enough." Lance backs away and his voice begins to echo, reminiscent of the first few times they'd met.

The ground shakes and though it isn't raining, Keith hears something crumble with a sonic boom, louder than thunder but just as real. He reaches forward to apologize and to try to understand, to make right the things he must have made Lance feel or remember.

But the world is collapsing around them, the city in the distance coming alight with towering flames. Ships, those unlike Keith has ever seen, send wave after wave of blinding blasts into the heart of that unreachable civilization. Blackened smoke flows into the sky and the mountains are under siege, the beach he and Lance sat beside drying up in a wave of annihilation.

Lance's form wavers in holographic flickers but Keith knows, without any doubt in his mind, that Lance is _real_. That the boy staring at a kingdom's downfall, full of tears and anger and a sadness deep as bone marrow, could be touched beneath Keith's own shaking fingertips.

"They're all gone." Lance's voice rises and falls, echoing and fading against the air. "They were here for a moment," He repeats Keith's words and looks to him, hair whipping against his face as another explosion rocks the distance, "and then they were gone."

The world explodes and Keith is thrown out, body bracing for an impact that never comes. His gasp is replaced by a scream and he rises from his bed in search of the sink, bile splashing onto his dirty plate from earlier that morning.

When he dreams again, for nights and nights and nights, the fields are without life. They are barren; decayed. Ash falls in an atmosphere stricken with damage, coating the skin in paper-soft despair.

They whisper endlessly: _the universe will not forget us._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The anniversary for the Kerberos mission is approaching and Keith would rather combust than find himself at the memorial. He wanders through the desert, following the path he'd taken over and over, something sparking at his feet to force him onward. He wouldn't call it intuition and he wouldn't call it simple curiosity.

Instead, it leads him like a hand on the shoulder, forcing him to understand that to move toward the electric-feel is as important as breathing. His feet kick up dust and dirt and he keeps on, glancing at the red sand and caverns that lead to forgotten places.

Yet, as always, he stops short. The feeling falls away and he's left alone, confused and conflicted. There are three passageways in front of him and though he longs to pick one, to follow it until it provides results, he knows it's a stupid idea.

If he gets trapped down there, with nothing but a few days worth of water, he'd be dead in two weeks.

So, with a shake of his head, he pushes the map back into his bag with no new markings. Miles away at the Garrison, he's sure Adam is standing before the black granite memorial. That his head is bowed but he is just as far away as Keith, lost to memories he wishes he could forget.

But neither of them can.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Keith opens his eyes to a sky void of darkened ash, he feels his heart leap to his throat. Around him, the grass is green and clouds pass in puffs of orange and cream. Waves wash on the shore, tossing in time with the wind. But more than any of this, his eyes begin to burn at the sound of a humming voice. Familiar and melancholy, it pulls at Keith until he's sitting up in haste, fingers digging into the smooth opal stones beside him. Unlike the beaches on Earth, this one reflects the cosmos in every way.

But he doesn't look to the dark waves, to the pinpoints of strange light that shine beneath-

He finds Lance and then he is running along the shore until he's breathless. The boy is waist-deep in the water, torso free of his shirt though Keith can see the top of his white pants resting on his hips. The humming fades when Lance turns around, blue eyes opening to find Keith's own. Where once there had been anguish and anger, now there is only calm. Acceptance and forgiveness; humor on the tilt of his lips.

The sight makes Keith stride forward, water splashing with his descent into the waves. Though Keith doesn't initiate it, Lance is wrapping his arms around him like a lifeline the moment they're close enough to touch. 

How long has it been since he'd been held? Since he'd felt his dad's strong hands or Shiro's breath on his head, laughing against his mop of black hair?

"I'm sorry." Lance says, burying his face into the junction of Keith's neck and jaw, "I'm sorry."

Keith lets out a shuddering breath, "I should be sorry. I didn't mean what I said-"

"You couldn't have known, Keith. It's not as if I've told you of my world. Of what happened to it." He leans back just a tad but looks toward the water, keeping his eyes away from Keith's own, "I'm sorry you had to see it like that."

Keith gulps and lets his gaze trail around Lance's face, noticing the dip of his cupids bow and the arch of his nose. He memorizes the way his ears rise high against his temples and the hint of color bursting on his cheeks.

"Would you like to tell me?" Keith suddenly asks, pushing himself to say more than he has in weeks, "Because, uh, there's some things I'd like to tell you too."

He thinks of his dad and his absent mom, the way it felt when Shiro had been on the news, the cabin and his lonesome nights in the desert.

Lance's eyes finally meet his and in them there is hope.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Keith feels a shift.

Their slightly awkward pauses give way to playful jabs, Lance always trying to outrun him or dive deeper or climb faster. They bicker and they laugh, sometimes falling silent in contemplation and always finding solace in the way they've come to rely on touch.

As starved as he is for it, Keith can't get enough. He leans into Lance when they sit atop hills and allows their hands to tangle beneath the waves, feet kicking to stay afloat. There are times that Lance will reach out and place flowers in Keith's hair, ignoring his grumpy pout the entire time.

And there are times, growing more frequently each day, that they run their fingers over skin. Lance's touches are sure, as if he knew exactly what he was looking for when he found the beating of Keith's heart or the fluttering pulse at his throat. But Keith moves with caution, always unsure if he was allowed to trace Lance's ears or the dimple on his cheek, let alone the line of his jaw.

Today, Lance's head is in Keith's lap and he's smiling with a soft tilt of his lips when Keith brushes his fingers across his collarbones.

"That feels nice." He mumbles, eyes fluttering shut.

Keith hums but doesn't reply, much too interested in the way Lance's breathing hitches when he tugs on the hair beneath his ear. While not as long as Keith's, the brown locks still feel feather soft. He travels to the dip of Lance's mouth and risks a quick trace of his bottom lip. When Lance doesn't pull away, he goes on, passing over the familiar dimple and the curve of his nose.

And then, for the first time, he runs his finger on one of the light blue crescents. Lance's entire body shudders and he opens his eyes, cheeks reddening almost instantly. His mouth parts but he seems unable to find words, instead looking at Keith with an emotion he can't place.

"Sorry." Keith grimaces, "I should have asked-"

"It felt good." Lance blurts, sounding almost _shy_.

When Keith doesn't reply, Lance reaches up and grabs his hand, moving it slowly back to his face. He holds him there, brown fingers pressing down on Keith's with another catch in his breath.

"You spoke of attraction on your planet." Lance's voice is a shaky whisper, "And that those of the same sex had won their right to love."

Keith feels flowers bloom in his stomach, veins wrapping up through his ribs, "Yes."

"Yet you've never spoken of your own lover."

"I uh," Keith glances toward the ocean, "don't have one."

"Do you wish you did?"

The question, the way it sits almost frightened on Lance's tongue, makes Keith freeze. His eyes snap back to Lance's and he keeps them there, trying to understand why he's decided to ask something like that.

But then Lance is moving, rising from his lap until he's kneeling in front of Keith with a face growing void of fear.

"I've never been with anyone either, no matter how much I tried. Though I find all beings beautiful, rarely did they show interest in me. As the son of a duke, friends with the princess of Altea, I liked to blame it on my rank. On my status. I thought I had time to find someone and to fall in love. But now-" He searches for something on Keith's face, "I may never get this chance again."

"What?"

Lance licks his lips and glances down to Keith's, making a point of it.

And though Keith takes longer to understand most social innuendos, _that_ strikes him clear as day.

He isn't sure what comes over him then. There's no warning before he manages to crowd Lance, feeling their breaths mingle with shaky need; a want so fierce it sends a blooming of supernova's into their blood. Lance sinks into the soft grass beneath him, his hair falling away from his face with eyes wide and blue and electric. Fingers reach hesitantly to rest on Keith's waist, urging him closer with small, insistent tugs. And Keith, for all of his youthful proclamations that things like this didn't matter, feels his own heart beating wild with wings

He leans down, forearms resting on either side of Lance's head, holding his gaze the entire time. Asking if it's okay to continue; praying that it is.

And when their lips touch, it is a flutter. A soft collision with no need for competition. It is revelation and revolution, a lulling sea and every planet rotating throughout the universe. Lance gasps into the kiss and raises a hand to the nape of Keith's neck, urging him closer with the opening of his legs.

Keith thinks once again that he has found a sanctuary in this place. That it is here, in the arms of a boy bathed in blue.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"I feel myself fading." Lance says one day, the sky growing to a warm orange dusk.

Panic seizes Keith, "What're you talking about?"

Lance dips his head and nuzzles a kiss to Keith's throat, "Something's going to happen. I can feel it like...like I'm being taken away from here."

"Don't say shit like that." Keith feels chills break out on his skin, "You can't just go _away_ , right? You're not going anywhere."

Lance pulls back and there are tears in his eyes, unshed but threatening to fall.

"I told you before that I remember the destruction of my home. I remember the fall of my people." He gulps and places a hand on Keith's face, thumb tracing the crest of his cheek. "But I don't remember what happened to me after that."

Keith stares, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what to do. Something is breaking inside of him, twisting up his guts and stabbing into his solar plexus.

Lance blinks and the tears slide along his cheeks one after another, glinting like crystal in the light. The words that leave his lips next feel like a blade to Keith's heart, as if the boy had reached inside and ripped it out still beating.

"I think I'm dead, Keith."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Who are you?" Keith grunts, lifting Shiro into his arms with both shock and fierce protectiveness.

"Pidge." The person scowls and nods toward a larger boy with some kind of bandanna on his forehead, "That's Hunk."

Around them, alarms blare and the explosion Keith set off can only last so long-

"Whatever." He grunts and doesn't have time to thank Hunk for taking Shiro's other arm, "We gotta go. _Now."_

They escape by the skin of their teeth, soldiers and scientists and teachers chasing at their heels. But Keith has outrun too many things, old foster parents and cops and fate itself, to be caught now.

He's weathered summer sand storms and dealt with the solitude of being a forgotten child, recognizing anger in the faces of those meant to keep him safe. There's a wolf in his heart and he lets it howl, has always kept his teeth sharp in order to survive. Now, he drives his hover-bike through the maze of the desert with ease, speeding up when both Pidge and Hunk scream for him to slow down.

He won't.

Instead, he takes to the huge trench of a valley with his spirits soaring high. He imagines that Lance is there with him, yelling into the sky with elation at the thought that he could fly. They brush along the ground and Keith takes them far away, to the only place he knows that is safe.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Life is strange,_ Shiro used to tell Keith, _but it's worth it._

But once they found the huge mecha lion in the caves, Keith wonders if life is _just_ strange. He wonders if it isn't also the workings of something greater; something powerful that none of them can understand.

Because he definitely can't understand _this_.

The lion had awoken by Keith's hand after a full day of exploring with the other's but he felt, more than saw, that he wasn't supposed to be the one to do it. With reluctant acceptance, it took them through Earth's atmosphere and away from a warship only Shiro could recognize. And once they disappeared through a warp of light and spinning motion, they were thrust into into the depths of the cosmos. It's a place Keith swore he'd never get to go. Stars whizzed past at the speed of light and all things blurred, unrest gushing in his stomach, making him unsure if he wanted to hurl or laugh.

Shiro, who Keith hadn't let out of his sight since his return, was just as clueless as the rest of them. And when they reached the alien world, Keith couldn't really believe what was waiting for them. With walls rising like some kind of galactic castle, the building was larger than anything they had on Earth.

"Do you think this is, like, some kind of nightmare?" Hunk asked later, voice echoing through the halls, "Maybe a dream?"

Keith thinks of Lance, of the hills void of his presence. Night after night, the winds were frigid and it's like a flame had been blown out, leaving Keith kneeling in the dirt, fingers gripping tight to blades of dying grass as if it could tether him to what was left.

He thinks of Lance's ominous statements and how they now haunt him endlessly.

 _I may never get this chance again._  
  
_I think I'm dead, Keith._

"I don't think so." Keith mumbles, watching Shiro lead them down a flight of steep stairs, "It doesn't feel like a dream."

The ship is huge and they all swear at some point that they'll get lost. Each turn leads to another hallway and each hallway leads to another room, lights growing with every step they take. They walk and walk until, _finally_ , they reach a room that doesn't lead anywhere else. Hunk lets out a thankful groan and leans on a console, hand wiping at the tired droop of his eyes.

If Keith weren't so tired, he would have jumped at the strange pods that rise from the floor. They sit in ominous silence but none of them know what to do, let alone what to say. Shiro walks forward first, strange prosthetic hand reaching to touch the foggy glass.

And then it is opening with a whoosh of frigid air, something akin to mist or smoke pooling on the floor in murky waves. Shiro grunts and holds tight to the body that tumbles into his arms, weight limp before they regain consciousness.

Keith feels his entire body waver. There is silence in his mind before the storm, lights bursting behind his lids the moment Shiro turns and helps the boy stand. Almost immediately, he is taken back to their ocean, to the rain and laughter. To days spent lounging on the highest peaks and nights beneath the stars. Keith recalls the way Lance's skin would become dusted with sunshine gold and rose, the way he would feel beneath Keith's hands and lips and his tongue. 

 _"Lance?"_ Keith whispers, a small sound that shouldn't reach anyone else's ears.

But it does.

Lance looks up, blue eyes coming to life with each slow blink. He focuses his sights on Keith, brows furrowing with a deeply set frown. For a moment, Keith worries he won't recognize him. That the months and months they spent together are now lost.

But then there is a sob ripped from Lance's throat, something raw that thrusts Keith forward. They meet halfway and touch as if for the first time, almost falling to the floor if not for Keith's back finding the hard surface of the wall. Lance shakes, voice cracking from disuse and disbelief and Keith holds him tight, ignoring the shocked silence from the others. Ignoring the opening of another pod and Shiro's grunt as he catches them.

He ignores everything, just for a while, except this.

Except him.

Lance pulls back and immediately cups Keith's face in his hands, eyes devouring him as if he'd been starved of it for centuries. His thumbs brush along his cheeks and Keith can't stop staring, can't stop taking in the way his eyes shine brighter than ever before. They glow like the universe had placed stars inside, entrusting them to him with adoration.

Lance blinks against his tears, finally finding words, "You're here."

He says it like revelation. He repeats it like salvation.

Keith nods and rests his forehead against Lance's, listening to him whisper over and over: _It's you, it's you, it's you-_

"Uh." Pidge speaks up behind them and Keith looks at her before Lance glances back with a look on his face as if he'd just remembered that there were others in the room. "Care to tell us what the fuck is going on?"

Keith finally notices an older man with a shock of orange hair staring at them in equal disbelief and distrust.

Lance makes a strangled noise and pulls away from Keith, fingers lingering on his hand before he runs toward a girl with starlit hair. They spin, laughing and crying and speaking in a language that rolls and slides on the tongue, before Shiro looks to Keith.

His face holds questions and though all of them feel like the universe is setting them up for something unbelievable, something altogether extraordinary, there is a smile forming on his face.  
  
One that says, somehow, that things will be okay.

That they are home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you'd like a part 2 from Lance's point of view :) 
> 
> Come say hello on [tumblr](https://starshinebf.tumblr.com/)


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